


Uncharted Land

by Privilegedesire (Llama)



Category: Supernatural RPS
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Outing, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-20
Updated: 2008-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-22 05:27:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/234335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama/pseuds/Privilegedesire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jensen is tired of steak, he's tired of life. And that's the last time I let fictional Jared write the summary, I can tell you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uncharted Land

**Author's Note:**

> References to Jared/Sandy. Written for the Kink exchange.

  
  
They get a week off; 'to sort things out', Eric says. Jared's not sure three days holed up in the house eating stale pizza and candy is quite what he had in mind, but Jensen's about ready to build machine gun nests so he has to pick the right moment to bring up grocery shopping.

A couple of photographers lurking across the street and a dozen or so phone calls isn't exactly under siege, but it's more press attention than they're used to having right on their doorstep. Jared is considering feigning a heart attack just to get out of the place.

He's an actor; he could totally pull it off. Jensen would call for help, hold his hand all the way to the hospital, and they could sneak out of a back door and be on their way to Hawaii or somewhere before Jensen worked out what was going on.

It's a great plan. Even Jensen the wannabe agoraphobic wouldn't let him die.

"No flowers, and donations to Dorks Anonymous, right?" Jensen asks when he confesses all, but he's joking. Jared knows he's joking. "Okay, I wouldn't let you die," he says later, and Jared sneaks a hand under his t-shirt, spreads his fingers wide on Jensen's back, rubs a little. "But it's still a crappy plan. And what _is_ it with you and Hawaii?"

"I've abandoned the fake heart attack idea," Jared says, eyeing the precious packages on the kitchen counter, courtesy of a confused cab driver. "We have steak now. And beer."

"Yeah." Jensen looked happier when it was just them and the empty candy bar wrappers, but Jared can't think on an empty stomach so he's relying on the food to inspire his next plan. "We can work our way up to real ones instead."

Jared isn't sure there's enough steak in Vancouver to fix this.

***

It would be easier if it was Jared's fault. He could apologize then; grovel even, explain how it happened.

But he doesn't _know_ how it happened. The press just went from ignoring their jokey flirtation to rabid speculation and gossip, and once the full media spotlight was on them there seemed to be supporting evidence coming out of the woodwork. Which in hindsight was probably inevitable since, you know, they never really bothered to come up with a decent lie, didn't force anyone to take painful and complicated oaths of secrecy.

They just didn't make any announcements. If any of their friends talked, it could be friends of either of them. They'll never know.

Jared's always assumed there were bitter exes or spurned lovers behind most outed celebrities, spilling the beans for cash or revenge, but Jensen's always been careful to avoid the minefield around casual, and Jared still sends Christmas cards to everyone he's ever slept with.

"Maybe it's for the best," Jared says, flopping down fully-dressed on the bed. "You know, one less secret to keep. Got to be good for your mental health, or something."

Jensen sits on the edge and kicks his boots at the door. "I _like_ secrets."

"Tell me one." Jared didn't mean to say it, but it's out there before he thinks about it.

The look Jensen gives him over his shoulder is incredulous. "You think I have secrets from you?"

Fuck. "Not big ones. Not _real_ ones." Jared twists his finger in the back of Jensen's belt and pulls. It doesn't work, not really, but Jensen plays like it does, leans back. "Maybe just things you haven't told anyone. Silly stuff."

Jensen's head is heavy on Jared's ribs when it lands, but Jared likes feeling the pressure of it when he breathes.

"My cousin Annabel used to make me play with her dolls," Jensen says in the end, and Jared's already grinning before he continues. "So I hung every goddamn frilly, sparkly Barbie from the apple tree in the garden one time. Perfect little nooses around every neck."

"You tie the hands too?" Jared's laughing, because he can just picture determined little Jensen getting his revenge.

"Yup. And I pulled the heads off just enough to make the necks look stretched."

"Awesome." Jared flicks Jensen's ear idly, and feels the weight of his head move down to his belly as Jensen turns over. "And more than a little twisted."

"Sweet talk'll get you nowhere," Jensen drawls, but Jared can tell he likes it. "Your turn."

"When she was little, Megan always liked lemonade best when I made it for her." Jared watches a set of car headlights flash across the ceiling. It's darker than he thought outside the circle of lamplight, must be getting late. "I never told her the 'special ingredient' was salt."

Jensen laughs. "I was kinda worried where that one was going, man."

Jared grins even though Jensen can't see him. "I'm saving the really gross stuff for later."

"I don't doubt it." Jared can feel Jensen shuffle, the bed creaking under him. "I used to jerk off thinking about you and Sandy." Jensen's voice cracks at the end, uncertain, and Jared can feel his shiver from where he lies, so he nudges his nose into Jensen's arm in a way he hopes is reassuring.

"I wish I'd known," Jared says, but he's not sure if that counts as a secret. "Um. We talked about inviting you for a threesome." That one definitely does. "I know you're not really all that into girls, but—"

"I'd probably have said yes." Jensen shivers again, and Jared knows it's not cold that's doing it but he moves closer anyway.

"Missed opportunities, man." Jensen and Sandy would have been scorching hot, but Jared kinda likes having Jensen all for himself, so he can't summon up more than a fleeting regret. "You never suspected?"

"No." Jensen rolls into him, his body firm and warm, and slings a leg over Jared's thigh. "I thought all your filthy kinks were in my head."

Jared grins into his skin. "Anything good?"

Jensen shrugs. "Anal, obviously."

"Everything I know about ass-fucking I learnt from Sandy," Jared agrees easily. "Both ways."

Jared hears the hitch in Jensen's breath when he speaks. "Fuck."

"Once we went down to the park at night," Jared tells him, and there's a wild sense of freedom in sharing this, the kind of thing you don't share with buddies, or lovers, or even someone who is both. Not easily, anyway. "And she fucked me with this strap-on, bending over a bench."

"Jesus, Jared." Jared can feel Jensen growing hard against his leg, and somehow this is less about distracting Jensen from his sulk now than it is about regaining some semblance of control.

"But I liked it best when she used to ride me," Jared says, and pulls Jensen on top of him. Jensen's big against Jared's thighs, hard and strong instead of tiny and delicate, and Jared can hardly imagine what it was like with Sandy now. He likes how he can manhandle Jensen; he'd probably break her. "Not… god. Not inside her, just my dick against her clit, between her lips, letting her rub off against me."

Jared thrusts up with his hips, his dick pressing up between Jensen's legs, the friction from rubbing against the seam of their jeans enough to make him groan.

"Used to get her so hot," Jared says, and his hands grip Jensen's hips more tightly. "Sometimes she wouldn't stop until she had to, got herself so worked up she needed to pee."

Jensen rocks against him, gratifyingly hard, and Jared twists his hips, grinding back.

"Sometimes she didn't stop even then."

"You mean—"

"Yeah, man." Jared groans, the memory and the pressure of Jensen against his cock, his belly almost too much. "She'd just let it go, still rubbing against my dick, all slick and wet and hot, and it's like… warm water on sensitive skin, because we'd have been there for hours by then sometimes, and… I can't even describe it." He wants to, because he wants Jensen to get it, even if he doesn't want to try it himself, but Jensen is working a hand into his jeans now and his brains are pooling in his dick anyway, so he has no chance.

"You like that," Jensen says, his voice low and husky with want, and Jared isn't sure if he means the peeing or the hand on his dick, but the answer is the same in any case.

"Yeah," he breathes, and watches Jensen's zipper come down. He's hard too, which is kind of a relief, and it only takes a few strokes of Jared's hand to have him coming across Jared's bared belly, drops spattering along his dick, among the coarse hairs that surround it. Jensen sighs, but it's a satisfied sound.

"Look at all the mess you made," Jared whispers, and Jensen licks his lips. Jared's dick gives a jerk at the idea of Jensen licking him clean with that tongue, but he lets his knees straighten out just enough, lets Jensen settle back until Jared's hand can move his softening cock from pointing at Jared's belly to right at his dick.

He half expects Jensen to protest, to say he can't, but Jensen doesn't. Jared can see him squint, meet his eyes, make sure he's asking for this, then he rests a hand over Jared's, like he can't do it without some control. It's just a tiny spurt at first, and Jared's body feels the ache of it too, the tension of the muscles and the post-coital languor working against each other, the push and pull that could go either way. Another spurt, hot drops glowing in the warm lamplight as they fall on Jared's belly, catch on the button of his jeans, soak the edge of his boxers.

Jared keeps his hand still, so it's Jensen who directs, points his cock down, straight at Jared's, breathes in deep as he looses a stream of piss directly over Jared's erection, and Jared can't help pushing his hips up into the flow, arching when he feels it spill over and splash off the underside against his belly.

Jensen's ass is grinding against his thighs, and Jared's never seen anything so beautiful as Jensen straddling him, cock in hand, jeans damp and messy and his face flushed as he makes sure Jared is wet from chest to thighs, body golden and glistening in the dim light. At least, not until Jensen's leaning down, brow furrowed with intent in the way that usually means Jared's going to get more than he bargained for. He slides his hand over wet skin, grasping Jared's cock at the root, and without warning, leans forward to close his mouth over the shiny wet tip.

"Fuck," Jared gasps, and he can't stop it, he's coming, catching Jensen's chin, his mouth, making his half-open shirt as messy as the rest of him. Jensen licks his lips, wipes his chin with the back of his hand, and he's grinning but there's more than that in the gaze that meets Jared's eyes.

"Your turn," Jensen murmurs, and _Christ_. Jared should have known it would be no different than anything else they do, but it's still a shock when he realizes Jensen isn't letting go, that he has his mouth _right there_ , and is he really asking him to do this?

"You sure about this?" he asks, but Jensen just rubs his lips against Jared's cock, and that's as much of an answer as Jared needs. It's tricky, because he's still hard with Jensen's hand on him, and he's not sure how much to let go, but the sight of Jensen there waiting, lips parted, is all the motivation he needs, and after the first disappointing trickle he sends a jet right up in the air, just in front of Jensen's mouth. The third time Jensen darts forward, and Jared hears a groan when the stream breaks, drops splashing off Jensen's lips, flying god knows where and Jared really couldn't care less because the only thing he can look at is Jensen's mouth, and he never wants to take his eyes off it.

"Again," Jensen says, and his voice is hoarse, his lips closer now, so the next burst spurts up against his teeth, in his mouth, and Jared can see him swallow, a mouthful, two, like he's slaking his thirst at a drinking fountain. "More," he says, and teases, his lips just interrupting the flow, enjoying the sensation, his eyes closed and drops beading his cheekbones, his forehead and Jared wants to do this, worship at Jensen's cock this way, because maybe, he thinks, when Jensen leans down to share the taste with him, maybe that's the only thing that could be better than this.

***

It's still warm under Jared's ass, under Jensen's knees, but cooling rapidly when they shift body heat away, so they don't move. It's a good thing the comforter is thick, because it's the only thing that's going to save the bed and the one downstairs kind of sucks, if you ask anyone who's actually slept in it.

Everyone's going to know now that Jensen never has.

Still.

"New secret, Jen," Jared says, and he loves the way Jensen's mouth just twitches at the corners.

"I guess." Jensen is non-committal, and his eyes are hidden in the shadows all the way up there, but Jared can almost hear him turning it over in his mind. Jared holds his breath, because Jensen is a stubborn son-of-a-bitch, and Jared might be teasing Jensen just a little, but the way things have been going this could still be his only chance of _ever_ leaving the house again. "Yeah," Jensen says finally, and leans down to kiss Jared, soft and sweet, unhurried. "I can work with that."

It'll be different out there now, Jared knows that. There'll be family feelings to soothe, jokes on set to run their course, and a whole new level of personal to negotiate in the questions, the looks. There'll be things they never anticipated, because they've never done this before.

But he also knows that in the glances they share, the secrets they keep, the little space they carve out for themselves in the big wide world; in all the ways that matter, it'll be exactly the same.


End file.
